the English langwidge and the range had produced, to date, and got
steadily and rapidly worse as long as I talked.

"Arizony may be slow in the matter of standing collars and rag-time,
but she leads the world in profanity. Without being swelled on
myself, I'll say, too, that I once had more'n a local reputation in
that line, having originated some quaint and feeling conceits which
has won modest attention, and this day I was certainly trained to the
minute.

"I addressed them brutes fast and earnest for five minutes steady,
and never crossed my trail or repeated a thought.

"It must have been sacred and beautiful. Anyhow, it was strong
enough to soak into their pores so that they strung out straight as a
chalk-line. Then I lifted them into the collars, and we rumbled past
the building, swung in front of the commissary door, cramped and
stopped. With the wheelers on their haunches, I backed up to the
door square as a die.

"I wiped the sweat out of my eyes and looked up into the grinning
face of about fifty swatties, realizing I was a mute--and a prisoner.

"I heard a voice say, 'Bring me that man.' There stood the Colonel
oozing out wrath at every pore.

"I parted from that wagon hesitating and reluctant, but two soldiers
to each leg will bust any man's grip, I lost some clothes, too, after
we hit the ground, but I needed the exercise.